Bets & Shots
by Singkatsu
Summary: Karen stops by Castanet Town's local watering hole, only to meet Chase, the local stand-offish bartender.


_A/N: Hey everyone! This is a response to a Kuneko prompt that read "Karen and Chase" and that I spun in a direction that I thought would be amusing. To all who are wondering how these two would ever meet: we can just base this encounter on the fact that, if Island of Happiness is any indication, Karen likes to travel. Anyway, happy reading and until next time! As always, please don't hesitate to review~_

"You're so pretty," Karen was swooning in her chair, unfocused eyes peering at the blonde glaring bartender before her. "You're almost 'spretty as Rick that one time that Pope's gave him a makeover," the more than tipsy bar attendant giggled violently to herself, body teetering dangerously close to the edge of her seat. "Was the best day of my life."

Chase sighed, hands still scrubbing at the now pristine plate in the sink. He needed the distraction.

"What's wrong, kitty gotch-yer tongue?" Bang's a-swishing and voice a sing-song, the bar patron was enjoying her teasing sport. "Do I make you _nervous_ , pretty boy?"

She could see him tense momentarily, before continuing on with his menial task. Blowing an obstinate hair off of her face, Karen huffed in annoyance. If the strawberry blonde wouldn't bite, she'd have to find something else to entertain herself with. Pivoting on the stool, she scoured the room for her next target.

With the only other available bartender occupied, Karen opted to libate herself with a few shots of tequila. That done, and her beer mug still half full, she took her pick of the bar-going audience.

The blond waitress was cute, but looked a bit too flighty for her tastes. She had too much peace-keeping charm to make for a good time – and Karen would know, she'd been to her fair share of bars. The other patrons were out of the question; one was buried in his drink, while another just looked like Won. Straw hats were so stupid.

Then her eyes got to the makeshift stage. The bartender's twitching in time with the gentle pounding of a dancer's feet was enough to convince her.

Karen sent a smarmy smirk in the direction of her silent partner-in-crime, who was studiously avoiding looking at anything but the croquery in his hands.

"Or is it _her_ that has you so on edge?" The exaggerated wink went unnoticed, but the comment got Chase to move over from his perch by the sink. Grimacing at Karen's overeager look, he poured two shots of Jack Daniels, pushing one over in her direction. Nodding at each other, they threw back their drinks, both lost in the familiarity of it.

"Who would have thought that Strawberry Margarita could hold his liquor?" Chase was back to avoiding her, busying himself with moving things around behind the bar. The Mineral Town visitor groaned in annoyance, slumping onto the sticky countertop.

"Jeez, you're almost as bad as Cliff. Grow a pair and go talk to her," Karen burped, nestling her face further into her arms. Peeking up at him from between them, she had an ingenious idea. "Tell ya what, let's make a deal."

Silence was her answer, as the blonde continued to wipe at non-existent spills. Overcome by the warmth of the room, Karen nestled deeper into the arms-turned-pillow, redirecting her focus to how weirdly comfortable the hair of her arms felt against her face. Arm hair was _weird_.

"…okay, I'm listening."

Like a horse out of the gate, Karen sprang back into action, smarmy grin back on her features. Leaning over the counter conspiratorially, she tried (and failed) to whisper her plan to the surly server.

"So, see the blonde over there?" Chase sought out his fellow employee, watching as she plopped down another two cocktails in front of Cain. He nodded. "I bet that I can flirt my way to her heart eyes before you even get that red-headed dance goddess to see you as more than a shrimp cocktail."

Admittedly, Chase had never really liked Kathy much - she was too girl-next-door for his tastes – but he wasn't so sure about this deal. His hands finally stilling, he chanced a glance at the poison-tongued dancer, whose usual string of incendiary comments had been replaced by music and motion. His hands clammed up where they rested, and he uncharacteristically gulped. She was _hot_ and he had been trying to be indifferent for _monthsi._

"What do you have to lose?" Karen continued, going to pour herself another shot. Chase downed it in her stead. Karen, lazy and sinking in her chair, smirked at his unwitting show of support.

Gruffly, he replied: "What do I get for winning?"


End file.
